


hold the door dear (i'm coming)

by ThisUsernameTaken



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), For my beloved saturnnn, Gen, Gift Fic, I'm Bad At Titles, Non-Linear Narrative, One Shot, Short, Tony Angst, flying a goddamn nuke into space, hOlD tHE dOoR dEaR, like what even is this, like who, took like two hours and it's so sho r t
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisUsernameTaken/pseuds/ThisUsernameTaken
Summary: Among the stars, his coffin drifted. Down on earth, it lay empty. People poured into the wrecked streets in shocked vigil.The battle was won. The war had yet to be fought. One life over thousands. A rescue. A victory. A sacrifice. This is the part where they won. Without him, they have lost.They don't know that yet.OR: Tony flies the nuke through the wormhole. Only here, the sky lies empty.Hold the door, dear.I'm coming.





	hold the door dear (i'm coming)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saturnnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnnn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [cut back down to my knees (gotta get back, gotta get free)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15490176) by [saturnnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnnn/pseuds/saturnnn). 



> I told you I would do the thing, saturnnn. then i never did the thing. SIKE! Here it is love sorryit'sbad  
> also?? your titles are actually good parentheses titles, teach me

A crackle of static. A blur of voices. A flicker of a face on a screen and no voice on the other end. And a nuke in his hands, over his back, into the sky. Into the wormhole, into space. And beyond.

 

A blur of voices.

 

_ “-can close it-” _

 

_ “-shut it down-” _

 

_ “-o it!” _

 

_ “No wait-” _

 

_ “-And I know just where to put it.” _

 

_ “-one-way trip-” _

 

_ “-call Miss Potts-” _

 

May as well. 

A blur of voices. A flicker of a face on the screen. 

 

Pepper’s face, beautiful and perfect and about to fucking die, could this thing go any faster? A flicker of Pepper’s face, and no voice on the other end. 

 

First, he saw the city. Second, the skyline. Now, the sky. The wormhole. A curtain to beyond. And then- nothing.

 

A crackle of static. The connection dies before she ever knew it was ringing, and the world falls away as the eternity of space falls in. 

 

Tony doesn’t know when he closes his eyes. He didn’t know he had in the first place until they open again, his breath stolen away in the airless vacuum of space. 

 

Behind him, all he’s ever known. Beyond him, all he’ll ever see again. A nuke in his hands, over his back. Into the wormhole. Into space.

 

And now, into the armada of horrors, into ash and debris and a soundless supernova that put all his weapons combined to shame. 

 

As his suit freezes over and his fingers stiffen around what’s no longer there, he can’t help but think it looks like a dying star. He watched the world fall away. He watched the stars fall into the black. He watched the nuke fall from his grasp to its final destination. And now- him.

 

He falls back into the endless dark for what seems to be forever. 

Fire blooms across his eyes, sparking of victory. Sparking of doom.

 

It feels symbolic. 

 

Fire blooms across his eyes and they flutter shut.

 

* * *

  
  


A collective shudder, a rattle of death. A frightening fit of seizures in the final throes of their wretched lives. Then nothing.

 

The Chitauri drop like dominoes, as if their strings had been cut. Husks litter the streets in scores. Leviathans fall with the dead-weight of innumerable tons onto the city. In the centre of it all, the Avengers, mid-action. 

 

Captain America slings his shield into a line of Chitauri, slicing the heads off three and returning to his arm as the rest fall limp untouched. 

Hawkeye picks off Chitauri from above. Black Widow holds the sceptre in one hand and shoots an alien with the other. Thor swings his hammer and lets it go in a thunderous arc. The Hulk smashes through one building and into another, Chitauri like ants beneath his fist. 

 

They all freeze as the enemy dies around them, a tableau of anticipation, hope, and relief. 

 

This is the part where they release their breath. This is the part where they catch it. This is the part where they break into cheers and hesitant smiles. Where Tony falls through. Where Hulk catches him. Where he wakes, where they go for shawarma, of all things. Where they go their separate ways. 

 

They do those things. They catch breaths they didn’t realize were held. They cheer, teasing out exhausted smiles. They draw into a loose circle, waiting, looking, hoping, for the one to close their group. Their voices die, their mouths drop.

The portal closes, and nothing falls through. No one. No one falls through. 

 

Before that, they wait.

 

Natasha shifts from foot to foot, gaze trained on the sky.  _ Come on, Stark... _   
  


A supernova hurtles to where they stand. The nuke can’t kill them, not anymore. But radiation from the portal will, and the risk is too great. Thor nods to Cap. That must be what does it. He gives the order, whip-snap sharp, regret bleeding into the words.

 

_ Close it.  _

 

This is the part where the world slows down enough for them to breathe. This is the part where Tony falls through by the last second. This the part where they win. 

 

She does. 

This is the part where the portal closes, and the world slows down enough for them to breathe. The world stops spinning. They breathe hard and heavy, waiting, looking, hoping.

The sky lies empty.

 

This is (should be) the part where they win.   
  
So why does it feel so much like loss?

 

* * *

  
  


Among the stars, his coffin drifted. Down on earth, it lay empty. People poured into the wrecked streets in shocked vigil.

The media was going ballistic.

 

Beneath the surface, Pepper held her phone in shaking hands, cracked screen displaying Tony’s name.

Beneath the surface, the bots listened very quietly as they cleaned the workshop to the last words Jarvis would speak for a long time, and plugged themselves into their charging stations before going dormant.

Beneath the surface, the Avengers drowned out a litany of regret and second guesses.

 

The battle was won. The war had yet to be fought. One life over thousands. A rescue. A victory. A sacrifice. This is the part where they won. Without him, they have lost.

 

They don’t know that yet.

 

His coffin drifts.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Tony wishes he had died, up in the cold clutch of space. He died a hero. He died cold and alone. He died loved.

Here, he is nothing. Here, he is cold and alone, as he’s always been. Here, he has forgotten what love felt like.

 

He does not want to be here. 

 

* * *

 

They wait. The Earth keeps spinning, life keeps living. Still, when they stop to think, they find they are still waiting. They’ve stopped hoping long ago. But it still lingers. They wait. For what? Something. Anything. 

Hope. What’s the point? He’s not coming back. 

They look. They’ve always looked to the sky. They look, waiting.

Hold the door, dear - but there is none .

Guess he'll have to make his own.

**Author's Note:**

> hahasouhhh   
> whatdoyouthink  
> please


End file.
